The Spheres of Riviss
by davros72
Summary: Crossover with "Doctor Who", featuring the Eighth Doctor and Charley Pollard
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: The Spheres of Riviss AUTHOR: Kevin Schultz AUTHOR'S EMAIL: FEEDBACK: Yes, please PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: I'm fine with it, just let me know where it'll be,  
that's all I ask.  
CATEGORY: Adventure, General RATING/WARNINGS: PG (for some action-violence)  
MAIN CHARACTERS: Rebecca, Jules, Phileas, Passepartout, the Doctor, Charley DISCLAIMER: SAJV and characters copyright Talisman/Promark/etc. The Doctor, Charley, TARDIS, etc. copyright BBC/Big Finish, etc. Star Trek, Enterprise, Archer, Porthos, Reed, etc. copyright Paramount Pictures. No infringement is intended.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Crossover time again. I swear, one of these days I'll write a completely original, non-crossover story. One day, but not today...

***************

Sir Jonathan Chatsworth was seated at his desk in his office at the headquarters of the British Secret Service. It was late, much later than most agents tended to stay. Sir Jonathan looked up when he heard his assistant, Jessica Kingston, yelp in surprise.

"I'm sorry, sirs, you can't come in here," he heard her say. He hurried out of his office, to find Jessica standing at her desk. Noticing her boss, she pointed at two men walking away from her down the corridor. One was tall,  
thin, dark-haired, with tiny beady eyes. The other was not nearly as tall,  
but just as thin, and with warmer, friendly eyes. Apart from those minor differences, the two could have been twins. Both displayed trim, dark beards on their faces, and both wore neat, ordinary gentleman's clothing.

The taller man held a small box in his hands, the shorter man held a black satchel. The tall man, whom Chatsworth decided to call Mr. Tall, looked back at Sir Jonathan and Jessica, paused, smiled broadly at them, and waved.  
Then Mr. Tall spun about and walked swiftly away from them and down the corridor. The other man, Mr. Short, nervously smiled at Sir Jonathan as well, then scampered after Mr. Tall.

"Stop right there, whoever you are!" Sir Jonathan called out sternly. There was no reply from either man. The two rounded a corner at the end of the hall and were lost from sight. Sir Jonathan turned to Jessica. "Get me some agents, on the double! They're headed for the vault."

Jessica nodded, and hurried off. Sir Jonathan unholstered his pistol.  
Checking that it was indeed loaded, he dashed down the hallway, and edged his way close to the corner. Quickly peeking around the corner, Sir Jonathan noted that the two men were at the far end of the corridor with their backs to him. Sir Jonathan crouched and turned the corner, making his way towards the intruders. As he got nearer the two strangers, he noted the unconscious forms of both of the vault guards lying on the floor behind the intruders. Sir Jonathan shook his head. He would have to reprimand those two officially, once this affair was over and done with.

Sir Jonathan crept nearer and nearer, and took up cover behind a desk situated about halfway down the right side of the corridor. Another desk matched his cover over on the left side of the long hallway. Sir Jonathan stood boldly upright, pointed his gun at the two men, and said, "Stop whatever you are doing, and step away from that door. You are trespassers on Her Majesty's property, and I demand that you account for yourselves immediately."

The two men ignored him. Sir Jonathan frowned, and aimed his pistol at a point above their heads. He wished to avoid bloodshed if at all possible,  
but was prepared if the need should arise. He squeezed the trigger, loosing a bullet which struck the doorframe above the two intruders' heads.

Mr. Tall glanced up at the slight damage above him, whispered something to Mr. Short, and with a swift turn of *something* in his hands, opened the vault door and slid inside. Mr. Short pulled an item out of his satchel and pointed it at Sir Jonathan. Sir Jonathan ducked as Mr. Short pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into the wooden panelling of the wall beside Sir Jonathan. As he looked up at the wall from his place of cover behind the desk, Sir Jonathan noted, with a tiny bit of relief, that the bullet would have not hit him, but seemed to have been deliberately aimed so as to miss him. Excellent, he thought. These two weren't after blood either. Perhaps there was a simple, non-violent way out of this mess after all.

Sir Jonathan heard a noise behind him, and saw that Jessica was finally hurrying towards him. However, there appeared to be no one else with her.  
Sir Jonathan frantically waved at her and pointed at the desk opposite him.  
She got the message, and dashed towards the desk, sliding the last few feet and slamming into it with her left shoulder. Jessica winced and rubbed her bruised shoulder as she sat up behind the cover of the desk. Sir Jonathan brought her up to speed on the events of the brief shoot-out.

"Thank heavens he didn't try to shoot at you when you turned the corner just now," Sir Jonathan said.

"There was no one at the vault door when I came around the corner, sir,"  
Jessica said.

Sir Jonathan peered over the top of his desk, and noted that there was indeed no trace of Mr. Short. He began to stand up, and was met with another gunshot in his direction. He quickly looked down once more. He looked over at Jessica. "Perhaps he simply doesn't like to shoot at a lady," Sir Jonathan said.

"Or perhaps it's just you he doesn't like, sir," Jessica said.

Sir Jonathan scowled at her. "Where are those agents I told you to get,  
Agent Kingston?"

Jessica looked away as she replied, "There's hardly anyone about, sir. I was afraid I'd have no luck, it being a Sunday morning at 3 a.m., sir." Sir Jonathan thought he detected a hint of resentment in her voice, but he dismissed it for now.

"Do you mean to tell me that there's no one here to assist us?" Sir Jonathan asked her, aghast.

"Not quite, sir. I did dash outside to see if anyone was nearby, a policeman or some such, and..." Jessica trailed off.

"Well?"

"I did find someone, sir," Jessica said quietly.

"Who?" Sir Jonathan asked, becoming impatient. "Out with it, girl!"

"Ah, Sir Jonathan Chatsworth!" a voice cried out from behind them down the corridor. "I hear that you're in dire need of my assistance!"

Sir Jonathan winced. Oh, good Lord, he thought. Anyone else, anyone else would have been fine, but no, I had to get *him*, didn't I? Sir Jonathan turned, and saw the proud, well-dressed, and none-too-sober form of Phileas Fogg strolling down the hallway towards him. Sir Jonathan fought down the anger within him, and furiously gestured for Fogg to get down and head for cover.

"What on Earth are you waving your arms about like that for, Sir Jonathan?"  
Fogg said, smiling as he ambled his way towards Sir Jonathan and his desk.  
The angry head of the Secret Service quickly dashed over to Fogg, and pulled him low to the ground, almost dragging him to cover behind the desk as yet another gunshot from Mr. Short blasted at them.

"It appears it's not just you he's firing at after all," Jessica said quietly.

Behind the desk, Sir Jonathan chose to ignore Jessica's comment. He looked at Phileas and shook him roughly. "Look, Fogg, I don't care where you've just been, I don't care what you've been up to tonight. But as it so happens, yes, we do need your help. We have two intruders in the vault."

"Intruders?" Fogg replied somewhat blearily. "Well, we should bloody well get rid of them, shouldn't we?" Fogg made to stand up, but was roughly pulled back down by Sir Jonathan.

"Fogg, they've got weapons, and they're holding us at bay here. We need to stop them from accomplishing whatever it is they came here to accomplish.  
I'm assuming it's some sort of theft."

"Well, that makes perfect sense," Fogg slurred.

Sir Jonathan slapped Fogg across the face. "Damn you, man! Sober up, and quick! This is for Queen and Country, Fogg!"

The combination of the sudden slap and the magic words "Queen and Country"  
seemed to do the trick. Phileas Fogg steadied himself, and shook his head briefly, clearing it. He pursed his lips, and nodded at Sir Jonathan. "Of course, Sir Jonathan," he said apologetically.

"Excellent, thank you, Fogg," Sir Jonathan said, relieved.

"Phileas?" Another new voice called out from behind the cowering trio. The three turned to look behind them down the corridor. It was Rebecca Fogg,  
one of Her Majesty's Secret Agents. "What brings you here this morning?"

"Miss Fogg!" Sir Jonathan shouted. "Get down! And get over here, quickly!"

Rebecca crouched down, and, running low, dove for cover next to Jessica.  
Rebecca slid to a halt up against the desk. She looked down at her knees,  
noting that the material on her trousers' knees were now scuffed and dirty.  
"Oh, well," Rebecca muttered.

"Perhaps it is only men he's shooting at," Jessica whispered.

Sir Jonathan quickly informed Rebecca of the situation.

Rebecca raised an eyebrow as Sir Jonathan concluded his short story. She glanced at Phileas. "I wondered what was going on when I saw you enter the building, Phileas," Rebecca said.

"Were you following me, Rebecca?" Phileas asked, affronted.

"Not at all, Phileas," Rebecca replied. "I was out and about on... personal business."

"Oh, really?" Phileas said, his eyes widening as he teased her. "And what sort of 'personal business' does a lady get up to at 3 a.m. on a Sat--"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, you two!" Sir Jonathan hissed at them both. "Will you both shut up, and help us deal with these intruders!"

Rebecca fought back a grin, and replied, "Of course, Sir Jonathan."

"Good," Sir Jonathan said, satisfied. "Now, as I see it, we need to get into that vault, and quickly, before they get whatever it is they're after,  
or do whatever it is they've come to do. For that, I think we need a distraction, to get Mr. Short--"

"Mr. Short?" Phileas interrupted.

"The shorter of the two men," Sir Jonathan answered. "Never mind. As I was saying--"

Sir Jonathan was interrupted again, as, without warning, Mr. Short suddenly rushed past them and hurried off down the corridor. Surprised, Sir Jonathan managed to fire off only one wild shot, but he missed his target completely.

Rebecca stood up, and hauled Jessica to her feet. "We're going after him,  
you two get in there!" Rebecca ordered. Rebecca and Jessica ran off in the direction of Mr. Short's escape, disappearing around the corner.

Sir Jonathan looked at Phileas. "Right," he said, pursing his lips determinedly. "Let's go, Fogg."

As they carefully stood up from behind their shelter, Fogg whispered to Sir Jonathan. "Do you always let her order you around?"

Sir Jonathan sighed. "I have discovered that once Miss Rebecca Fogg sets her mind on something, she has no other bosses but herself."

Fogg smiled slightly. "Indeed."

They approached the door to the vault, and took up positions on either side of the open doorway, pressing their backs to the wall. Since Sir Jonathan was the one with the gun, he burst into the vault first, crouching low,  
pistol before him.

Looking carefully and swiftly all around him, Sir Jonathan noted the huge space of the vault, and its rows and rows of valuables and artifacts.  
Nothing immediately seemed to be out of place. Curiously enough, there seemed to be no sign of Mr. Tall, either.

Fogg entered behind Sir Jonathan, and looked around as well. "No sign of anyone here, Sir Jonathan."

"Hmmm. But only one person ran past us out there, is that not correct?"

Phileas nodded. "Yes. Was it Mr. Short or Mr. Tall?"

"Mr. Short. So where is Mr. Tall?"

Sir Jonathan spun about as he heard something scrape against the floor from across the large room. A faint reddish glow emanated from a distant corner.  
Pistol at the ready, Sir Jonathan dashed towards the source of the odd light. He arrived at the corner just in time to see the vague outline of Mr. Tall enveloped in a swirling cloud of bright red light. As the light roiled and dimmed, Mr. Tall faded quickly from view, but not before he had the chance to wave at Sir Jonathan and Fogg. Sir Jonathan noted that Mr.  
Tall had held a small box in his waving hand, and a spherical object of some sort in his other hand.

The reddish glow now completely gone, along with all trace of Mr. Tall, Sir Jonathan sighed angrily. He looked over at Fogg.

"What the hell is going on?" they said in unison.

They spun about once more as yet another strange sound pierced the eeire early morning quiet. It came from out in the corridor.

They hurried across the vault, and burst into the corridor to find a tall blue box immediately in their path, between the vault door and the desks they had used as cover. The box was taller than either of them, and was about twice as tall as it was wide. A number of opaque windows topped the door-like sides of the box, and the whole affair was topped by a light that flashed a few times, then stopped.

As soon as Fogg saw what it was, he shook his head, and closed his eyes.  
"Oh, good Lord, no," he grumbled. Sir Jonathan glanced at him.

One of the doors on the box opened, and two people ran out. They pulled up short so as not to run over Sir Jonathan or Fogg. The taller of the two newcomers, a handsome man, was dressed in a fine, dark-green velvet frock coat, a silver waistcoat, and a neat cravat. His brown, curly hair was a bit longer than was currently the fashion. His companion, an attractive young woman, wore a pair of black trousers, a dark maroon blouse, and a black frock coat that appeared to be a more feminine version of her taller friend's coat. Her dirty-blonde hair framed a friendly face with warm,  
greenish-blue eyes.

The man's eyes lit up as he saw whom he had almost run over. "Ah, Phileas Fogg! And Sir Jonathan Chatsworth! How pleasant to see you both!" He caught sight of the unconscious bodies of the two vault guards. "Oh, dear,"  
he continued, his voice turning sad. "It appears we've arrived a bit too late, Charley."

Phileas looked at the man, and said calmly, holding his simmering irritation in check, "Doctor. What brings you here? And your friend, Miss..."

"Oh, that's right, she wasn't along last time we met," the Doctor said.  
"This is my friend, Charlotte Pollard."

Charley smiled as she shook Fogg's and Sir Jonathan's hands. "Please, call me Charley."

"Nice to see you again, Doctor," Sir Jonathan said, somewhat relieved,  
knowing that help was at hand at last. "And delighted to meet you, Miss Pollard."

"As for what brings us here," the Doctor continued. "Well, that's quite an interesting little story, as a matter of fact..."

*****

Rebecca Fogg and Jessica Kingston hurried out of the headquarters building of the British Secret Service. They looked around, attempting to spot their prey, the mysterious Mr. Short. Rebecca spotted his running figure down the street, and, with a tug on Jessica's arm, she ran after him.

Mr. Short turned a corner, and Rebecca doubled her efforts, hoping desperately that she could catch up to him. He had a decent start.  
However, she had the advantage... she was Rebecca Fogg, after all. Glancing back to make sure Jessica was keeping up with her (and she was), Rebecca swiftly turned the same corner Mr. Short had...

... and was roughly knocked to the ground as Mr. Short plowed straight into her. Rebecca and the strange man wrestled briefly as they both attempted to stand and gain the upper hand. Jessica caught up to them, and entered into the fray. Suddenly, Mr. Short issued a loud, sharp bark, and flung both women back to the ground with what appeared to be a surprising degree of strength for a man of his height. Mr. Short snarled as he picked up his satchel from where it had fallen, and, with departing kicks to both the women's abdomens, he fled.

Rebecca and Jessica helped each other to stand. Rebecca stamped her foot in disgust, mainly at herself for letting her quarry escape so easily.  
Granted, his strength had taken her by surprise. Still, that was no excuse.  
She was better than that. There had to be something else, something she was missing...

Jessica gazed gloomily down the street along which Mr. Short had made good his escape. She swore under her breath, another experience that took Rebecca by surprise.

"Why, Miss Kingston," Rebecca said, having finally recovered her breath. "I don't believe I've ever heard you speak quiet so strongly before."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Fogg," Jessica said, casting her face down. "I'm just upset at myself for letting him get away. For letting him and his accomplice get past me in the first place."

Rebecca walked over to the forlorn Jessica, and placed a reassuring hand on the other woman's shoulder, giving it a short encouraging squeeze. "Never mind that, Miss Kingston. It's obvious there's something very odd going on here. That man was more than he appeared to be, that is for certain."

Jessica looked up at Rebecca, and smiled at her. "Thank you, Miss Fogg.  
You always know just what to say." Jessica gazed into Rebecca's eyes for just a bit longer than Rebecca felt comfortable with. Sensing her discomfort, Jessica quickly cast her eyes downward once again. Then she frowned. "Hmmm..."

Rebecca looked down as well. "'Hmmm' indeed," Rebecca agreed. The two women bent down, and looked at the strange, small metal box that rested incongruously on the cobbled street surface. Rebecca picked it up, and peered at it. "Good heavens. What could this be?"

Jessica looked at it closely as it nestled in Rebecca's palm. "This looks rather like the box that the taller man was holding when they first arrived at Headquarters."

"Does it, indeed?" Rebecca said, one eyebrow arching inquisitively. "It must have fallen from our man's little black bag during the struggle just now."

Jessica nodded. "I think we'd best get back to Headquarters, Miss Fogg."

Rebecca agreed, and slipped the small box into a pocket.

*****

The Doctor had managed to revive the two unconscious vault guards using some odd little device he had produced from one of his coat pockets. The two guards stood up unsteadily, but certified that they actually felt quite well. Chatsworth sent one of them to summon more agents, while he left the other on guard, the vault having been closed and resealed once more.

"Once he gets back with reinforcements, I want both of you to go straight to the infirmary, is that understood?" Chatsworth told the remaining vault guard sternly. The guard nodded and replied that he understood. That having been taken care of, Chatsworth turned back to Phileas and the two newcomers.

"Well, Doctor," Chatsworth said. "I must confess I didn't expect you to turn up, but I am glad of any assistance you can provide all the same."

"Oh, you're quite welcome, Sir Jonathan," the Doctor replied casually,  
looking around a bit distractedly. "Charley, bring them up to speed, would you, please?" The Doctor waved generally in his companion's direction, and then wandered down the hallway.

Charley cleared her throat, and turned from the Doctor to face Chatsworth and the pleasantly attractive Phileas Fogg. She smiled at the distinguished man with the intriguing sideburns as she began. "Well, you see, we're after these two men. They're what we call 'alien criminal masterminds'."

"Only the one," the Doctor called out as he inspected the desks that had been used for cover during the earlier gunfight.

"Oh!" Charley said. "Right, sorry. One's an actual 'mastermind', the other is just some poor fellow who got dragged along by the main bad guy."

Phileas frowned. "What?"

"The mastermind is a man known as Lord Aranax," Charley continued. "He and his accomplice, Mr. Springwell--"

"I think it's just 'Springwell', Charley, without the 'Mister'," the Doctor interrupted again.

"Well, I like calling him 'Mr. Springwell', if it's all the same to you,  
Doctor," Charley retorted, playfully. "I think it's rather catchy. Don't you?" Charley looked squarely at Phileas, gazing into his eyes.

Phileas blinked, apparently taken aback somewhat by the outgoing young lady.  
"Well, um... quite," he managed to stammer. "Don't you agree, Sir Jonathan?"

Sir Jonathan harrumphed, saying, "Which one was this Lord Aranax, the taller one or the shorter one?"

"Oh, the taller one," Charley said, continuing to smile at Phileas. She turned back to the Doctor, who was now looking at the bullet holes in the wall above the desks. "Doctor, how much can I tell them? I mean, about.  
you know..."

The Doctor pushed a finger delicately into one of the bullet holes. Without turning, he called back, "Everything, Charley. You'll find they're not so closed-minded as you might expect."

Sir Jonathan and Phileas glanced at one another.

Charley continued her story. "Right. Lord Aranax and Mr. Springwell are from another planet, a planet called Riviss. Lord Aranax feels that he's the rightful heir to become ruler of the planet. However, the planet's government and the Rivissians don't agree. They've moved on from a monarchy based on lineage and heritage and all that, and instead have instituted a democratic form of government. Aranax doesn't care that the people don't want him as their ruler, and will do anything to take control of the planet.

"To that end, Aranax is searching for two objects, control spheres, I believe the Doctor called them. One of them was traced to Earth, and the other... Doctor, we haven't located the other sphere yet, have we?"

The Doctor had finished his investigation and was walking back to rejoin the group by the TARDIS, the Doctor's blue box. "Not yet. Don't worry, we'll be able to track Aranax easily enough. And besides, as long as Springwell's around, I think there's still some investigating to be done here on Earth.  
At least for a short time."

Charley smiled up at Phileas as she continued. "So, these two control spheres are the key to starting this great big powerful energy source on Riviss. Apparently it's powerful enough to control the minds of everyone on the planet. Aranax thinks that with this source under his control, he can make the people of Riviss do his bidding, and he can finally become the ruler of his world."

"How did one of these control spheres come to be here on Earth?" Phileas asked.

"Good question," Charley said, grinning at Phileas. "The energy source was created many years ago, millennia before the time of Aranax. The energy source was simply a helpful tool when it was created. It helped nudge weather systems in a particular direction, for instance, guaranteeing a rainfall in a specific region to prevent a drought. It was useful for all sorts of nice things like that. After a while, the good people of Riviss were constantly under attack from all sorts of bad people, who wanted control of the powersource for their own evil purposes. Eventually the leaders got fed up with the constant attacks, and decided to get rid of the control spheres, in the hopes that no one would ever find them, and so that no one could ever control the powersource again.

"The Rivissians do not have the capability to travel through space, but a friendly visitor from another world offered to help them. He set up two rockets, which he then launched, each with a control sphere aboard. These unmanned rockets were launched, and wherever they ended up, that's where they ended up. They weren't guided or programmed or anything like that.  
One of the rockets landed on Earth, not too long ago. Somehow it found its way into your vaults, apparently."

"Well, they're not *my* vaults, actually," Phileas said, glancing away from Charley, instead looking at Sir Jonathan. "They're his, he's the head of the Secret Service."

"Well, these vaults, in any event. The other sphere we still have to track down. Does that about cover things, Doctor?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, thank you, Charley, well done," he said breezily.  
"Now, I think it's best if-- Wait, wait, wait, wait. No, that's not *quite*  
it, Charley. Actually, it mostly is, but not completely. Lord Aranax has the power to transmat."

"Transmat?" Sir Jonathan said, puzzled.

"Ooh, that's a tough one," the Doctor said. "A way of breaking up the bits and pieces that make up an object or a person into tiny, tiny little invisible bits, sending them almost instantaneously through space, and reforming them back into their original shape at the destination, wherever that may be. Make sense?"

Phileas and Sir Jonathan nodded, not understanding in the slightest, but knowing that this was probably the best explanation they were likely to get from the Doctor.

"As I was saying," the Doctor continued, "Aranax has a pair of transmat devices, thanks to another alien visitor to Riviss. The poor fellow. At least you didn't see what Lord Aranax did to him."

Charley looked up at the Doctor, sadly. "It was a bit... unnerving, to say the least."

"So, with these transmat devices," the Doctor continued, "and some tracking equipment from his home planet, Aranax has begun to hunt down these control spheres. It seems he's already got the one. Now he's on his way to the second. And we've got to stop him before he gets them both and returns to Riviss to take control of the planet."

Sir Jonathan piped up. "You said that this Lord Aranax had a pair of transmat devices. Presumably Aranax has one, and Springwell has the other,  
correct?"

"Not necessarily," Rebecca called down the corridor as she and Jessica arrived. They joined the group by the Doctor's TARDIS, and Rebecca produced the small metal box they had found on the ground. "Might this be one of those devices, Doctor?"

"Rebecca Fogg!" the Doctor cried, delightedly. "How exquisite to see you once more! And you are...?" the Doctor trailed off as he turned to Jessica.

"Jessica Kingston, sir," Jessica said shyly, with a slight curtsey.

"May I introduce my friend, Charley Pollard," the Doctor continued.

Rebecca eyed the young lady suspiciously. Charley did likewise. The two women seemed to sense something about the other, something they couldn't quite put their finger on. However, they shook hands in a friendly manner and smiled at each other. Charley shook Jessica's hand as well.

The Doctor looked at the small box. "Yes, indeed, Rebecca. This is the other transmat device, well done! Now Springwell's stranded on Earth."

"Springwell?" Rebecca said. "Is that the name of the man we were after?"

Charley nodded. "Mr. Springwell is the accomplice of Lord Aranax."

"Lord Aranax?" Jessica asked, frowning in confusion.

"Doctor, do I have to go over everything again?" Charley asked, her voice tinged with just a hint of fatigue.

The Doctor pulled out a pocketwatch and clicked it open. "Hmmm. Perhaps it's best if we all meet back here in the morning and recap everything for everybody. Say, nine o'clock? How does that sound?" There were murmurs of agreement all around. "Excellent!" the Doctor continued enthusiastically,  
snapping his watch shut and pocketing it. "Oh, and if you wouldn't mind bringing along your delightful friends Jules Verne and Jean Passepartout,  
that would be superb! We'll start on a plan of attack first thing in the morning."

The Doctor grinned as everyone shuffled off.

"Doctor," Charley said quietly, as she and the Doctor turned to re-enter the TARDIS. "Shouldn't we be hurrying after Lord Aranax?"

"Oh, don't worry about him. Benefits of having a time machine. I can bend the rules just a bit here and there. The TARDIS will have no problem tracking Aranax. Besides, I want to know why Springwell stayed behind here on Earth."

***** 


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning, the meeting was held in Sir Jonathan's office, with most of the participants having had very little or no sleep at all. The Doctor seemed the liveliest of all of them. He kindly refused a seat offered to him by Sir Jonathan, instead preferring to pace around the office.

The Doctor related the background to the story of Lord Aranax and his quest for total control of the planet Riviss. Afterwards, the group sat in silence, pondering.

"I've got an idea!" the Doctor proposed.

"Indeed?" Phileas muttered, arching an eyebrow sarcastically.

"Yes!" the Doctor confirmed. "I propose that we split up. A few of use will follow Aranax in the TARDIS, and the rest will track down our elusive Mr. Springwell."

Charley looked up at the Doctor from her chair. "Hey! I thought you didn't like to call him 'Mister'."

The Doctor grinned at her. "Things change. Bygones. Now, as for who is on which team..."

"I'm on Phileas' team!" Charley said, rather too quickly for anyone's comfort, especially Phileas'.

"And I shall accompany the Doctor," Rebecca declared just as quickly.  
Rebecca and Charley glared at each other, narrowing their eyes.

"I think it best if we have Charley join forces with Rebecca," the Doctor interceded. "And Monsieur Verne, why don't we have you go with them?"

Jules nodded. "I'm fine with that."

"Meanwhile," the Doctor continued, "Phileas and Passepartout will accompany me. We will be heading after Lord Aranax using the TARDIS' tracking sensors. Charley, you, Rebecca and Jules can track down Mr. Springwell."  
The Doctor tossed a small device at Charley, who fielded it neatly. "Here,  
take this. It's an Electronics Emissions Detector. The EED can locate any unusual anachronistic readings within a one kilometer radius. That *should*  
assist you in finding our friend Mr. Springwell. Make sure you find out why he remained behind, and make sure there's nothing else that our quarry might be after here on Earth."

The Doctor turned to Sir Jonathan. "And what have you found out about what's been stolen, Sir Jonathan?"

Sir Jonathan sorted through some reports on his desk. "After a thorough cataloging of the vault's inventory, there is only one item missing from our collection. It is a spherical object, which does in fact match up with your description of the, what was it, control sphere? Yes. According to the item report, the sphere was found approximately three months ago, having apparently fallen out of the sky into a farmer's field. The farmer, a Mr.  
Thomason, stumbled across the object, and, noting its odd method of arrival,  
and its curious humming noise, brought it to the attention of the local constabulary. The locals very wisely passed it along to us. Our scientists conducted several investigations and experiments, with the end result of learning absolutely nothing about it. It is completely impervious to anything we used to try to open it, or manipulate it, or... well, anything.  
In short, a complete mystery object."

"A mystery no longer, Sir Jonathan," said the Doctor. "It's our control sphere, all right. Thank you, Sir Jonathan. And I'm sure we can rely on you to keep a close eye on things here, as the rest of us continue our investigations, am I correct?" The Doctor smiled hugely at Sir Jonathan.

Chatsworth was unsure of quite how to respond. Was he being dismissed? Or should he feel relief at not being taken along on a mad adventure into the unknown? He settled on a mix of the two, responding with a frown and a terse "Thank you, Doctor."

"Not at all!" the Doctor said cheerily. He clapped his hands together.  
"Time to split up. Let's get going, everyone!" The Doctor turned and dashed out the door and into the corridor beyond.

The remaining individuals in the office looked at each other, and slowly stood up. Rebecca looked at the door the Doctor through which the Doctor had just exited. Charley was sneakily glancing over at Phileas. Rebecca turned back to the rest of the group, and noticed Charley's surreptitious looks at her cousin. She cleared her throat.

Charley blinked, and smiled sweetly at Rebecca. Rebecca frowned, and looked at Jules. Jules tried to hide a smile as he looked down at his feet.

"Let's go, ladies," Jules said, forcing back the amused laughter as Charley and Rebecca glared at him as they filed past him and out the door.

Phileas and Passepartout looked at Jules curiously as the young Frenchman followed the women.

"What is being so funny, Master?" Passepartout said.

Hands on hips, Phileas shook his head. "I haven't the slightest idea,  
Passepartout."

*****

Charley walked down the bright, sunlit streets of London, Rebecca and Jules walking on either side of her. She held the Doctor's detector device in her hands as she walked. The little device was quiet at the moment.

"So, the Doctor created that all by himself, did he?" Rebecca said, peering at the EED.

Charley looked sidelong at her. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

Rebecca shrugged. "No reason."

"Good."

Rebecca looked at the surrounding buildings as they continued to hunt for Mr. Springwell. "So, are you and the Doctor--"

"No!" Charley spluttered hurriedly. "I mean, no, we aren't anything. We're just... really great friends, that's all."

Rebecca tilted her head back slightly and grinned just a bit. "Ah. Good."

"What is *that* supposed to mean?" Charley said, stopping abruptly.

Rebecca and Jules stopped and turned back to look at Charley. Jules struggled in vain to keep from grinning.

"Just an innocent question," Rebecca replied smoothly. "Why, what did you think it meant?"

"Nothing!" Charley said defiantly.

"Good," Rebecca smiled sweetly back.

"Ladies," Jules interjected.

The two women looked sharply at him, both with hard looks on their faces.  
"What?" they said in tandem.

Jules held his hands out in front of him defensively. "Um, aren't we supposed to be on a mission? Let's just find this Springwell person first,  
then deal with whatever is the problem later. How does that sound?"

"There's no problem," Rebecca said.

"None at all," Charley agreed.

The two women looked at each other sternly once more.

Rebecca was about to speak, when thankfully she was interrupted by a quiet bleep from the device in Charley's hands. Rebecca and Jules crowded around Charley, and looked closely at the little detector.

"What does that sound mean?" Jules asked.

Charley frowned at the device. "Well, first of all, it means that the device is working, which is rather suprising in and of itself. Second, it means Mr. Springwell is nearby. Specifically..." She trailed off as she spun slowly in a circle, holding the device out in front of her. As she was nearing a complete circle, the device emitted another bleep. "Somewhere in *this* direction," Charley concluded, pointing with the detector.

Rebecca looked in the direction Charley indicated. "Down this street?" she asked.

Charley nodded. "Yes."

"How far?" Jules asked.

Charley shook her head, and began walking down the side street, her two companions following her. "I'm not sure. Let's hope Mr. Springwell keeps using whatever electronic equipment he's using, so we can narrow it down as we get closer."

The three walked silently for a few moments. The detector unfortunately refused to bleep further.

"Phileas isn't seeing anyone at the moment, is he?" Charley asked quietly.

This time it was Rebecca who stopped abruptly. "What?" she said, quietly and angrily.

"Well," Charley continued after she and Jules had stopped as well, "he *is*  
rather attractive."

"You cannot *possibly* be interested in my cousin," Rebecca growled.

"He's not seeing anyone, Charley," Jules said, chuckling.

Charley beamed at Jules. "Why, thank you, Monsieur Verne!" Charley sighed,  
and looked up at the sky. "I can't wait to see him again."

Rebecca narrowed her eyes, and clenched her fists. "Charley--" she began.

Again, the detector came to the rescue. It bleeped, louder than it had before. The three investigators looked at the readings on the device.

Charley swung about, searching for the source of the bleeping. She stopped as the bleeping increased and became a steady tone. Charley looked up and faced the building they had stopped in front of. "A hotel?" Charley said,  
reading a nearby sign. She looked at the others. "I suppose that makes sense, they'd need somewhere to stay. Well, it looks like it's time to confront Mr. Springwell." The three nodded together, and headed inside the hotel.

*****

Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor flicked another switch on the central hexagonal console. The console squealed back at him, causing the Doctor to thump the top of the console with his clenched fist. The console calmed down somewhat. "That's better," the Doctor said, smiling.

Phileas looked at Passepartout. "Are we quite sure he knows how to control this machine?"

Passepartout looked nervously back at Phileas. "I am not sure, Master. I am wishing that I knew." Passepartout glanced hopefully over at the Doctor,  
who continued to fiddle with the controls. "Doctor?" he asked. "Perhaps you might be thinking I may be of assistance in controlling of your vessel?"

The Doctor kept fussing at the dials and levers as he replied. "Not at the moment, Passepartout, but I thank you for your offer. Perhaps next time..."

Passepartout grinned. He was impressed with this fantastical machine of the Doctor's. They had entered a tall blue box, expecting a very tight fit within. Instead, they were met with a vast, ornately decorated -- and chaotically messy -- spacious interior instead. The Doctor had immediately rushed to the central console and set the TARDIS in motion.

"I will be looking forward to it, Doctor," Passepartout answered.

There was a grinding, scraping sort of noise, which repeated itself a few times, then stopped with a calm chime.

"We've arrived," the Doctor announced. He looked at some readings on the console.  
The Doctor pulled a chain, and a small screen lowered itself from above the console. He looked at the results displayed on the screen. "Hmmm.  
interesting."

"What is it, Doctor?" Phileas asked. He stepped closer to the console, and joined the Doctor in peering at the screen.

"It appears," continued the Doctor, a frown creasing his forehead, "that our friend Lord Aranax has travelled not only in space, but also in time. I wasn't aware that their transmat devices had the capability to travel through the fourth dimension as well. I had assumed they were only spatial transporters. I wonder who it was who helped the Rivissians launch their spheres in their rockets..."

Phileas thought for a moment. "Well, perhaps the one control sphere has exerted some sort of influence over this transporting device of Lord Aranax's, and his helping locate its twin."

The Doctor frowned. "No, no, no."

Phileas frowned as well. "Hmm. Well, it was just an idea."

The Doctor's eyes suddenly widened. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Phileas Fogg, I believe you are correct!"

Phileas blinked in surprise. "Oh. Well, it was just a *brilliant* idea,  
then."

Passepartout smiled. "Very good thinking, Master!"

Phileas looked at his valet. "Thank you, Passepartout."

The Doctor absently rubbed his lips as he thought. "In order to make it even more difficult for any one person to locate both spheres, they were hidden in not only different spatial locations, but also different temporal locations as well. Yes! That's it! Let's see..." The Doctor checked a number of instruments on the console. "We're approximately three hundred years after your time, gentlemen. Those transporters must be impressive technology. Not to mention the control spheres. And just imagine what those control spheres... well, control, I suppose..."

Examining some further readings, the Doctor smiled. "Breathable atmosphere,  
very Earth-like. Hmm... it appears we're on a starship of some sort."

Phileas frowned slightly. "A... 'starship'? You don't mean..."

"Did you expect us just to hop across the street into the neighbor's parlor and find Lord Aranax? There's no telling where he might have gone. So,  
yes, a starship is a perfectly valid destination."

Passepartout smiled and raised his hand, as if volunteering to ask a question. "Um, Doctor? This starship... You are saying we are in a sort of airship, but one that is flying in the space? Among the twinkle, twinkle,  
little stars?"

The Doctor chuckled, and smiled at Passepartout. "Exactly, Passepartout!"

Passepartout grinned and smiled over at Phileas triumphantly. Phileas frowned back at him in response.

The Doctor pulled the control to open the main doors, and turned to his two fellow travellers. "Shall we?" The Doctor strolled swiftly out the door.  
Phileas and Passepartout followed him outside.

*****

A shortish, beared, and neatly dressed man sat next to a prim, slight figure of a young woman. The bed they were sitting next to each other on was covered in a number of odd mechanical and electronic devices. The woman looked frightened, and yet curious. She looked up at the man in a manner that conveyed awe tinged with fear. "Marko, I think I almost believe you,"  
the woman said softly.

Mr. Springwell smiled, and grasped the woman's hands in his. "Oh, Rachel!  
I hope that you do!" He released her hands and grabbed a small device from behind him on the bed. "This one," he continued, "this device displays the time, using plain numbers instead of the circular hand-based display used by that large clock you have here, Big Bill."

Rachel giggled. "Big Ben."

"Big Ben, yes, sorry," Mr. Springwell continued hurriedly. "You simply *must* believe me, Rachel. I *am* from another planet, another time. And I want you to come with me!"

Rachel sighed, looking deep into Mr. Springwell's eyes. "Why?" she asked longingly.

Mr. Springwell dropped the time displayer, and clutched Rachel's shoulders.  
He looked straight at her. "Because... because I love you, Rachel, that's why. And I want to be with you forever. But I have to leave England, now.  
That is why I want you to come with me."

"Where do you have to go, Marko?" Rachel breathed.

"I cannot tell you right now, but you must trust me. It will be wonderful.  
I promise you."

Rachel closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Yes. Yes, Marko, I *will*  
go with you!"

Mr. Springwell's eyes widened, and he stood up, pulling Rachel up with him.  
They looked at each other, and embraced.

"Oh, Rachel," Mr. Springwell said, grinning from ear to ear. "You've made me the happiest man in the universe! But we must hurry. Help me pack these devices back into my satchel, quickly."

Rachel picked up some items, and helped Mr. Springwell tuck them back into his black satchel. "But I don't understand, why are you in such a hurry,  
Marko?"

The door crashed open, and Rebecca Fogg, Charley Pollard, and Jules Verne burst into the room.

"Because we're after him for a crime he has committed against Her Majesty Queen Victoria," Rebecca announced boldly as they surrounded the two lovers.

Mr. Springwell jumped back, throwing an arm in front of Rachel protectively.  
He looked crestfallen as he said, "Please, don't."

Rachel looked up at Mr. Springwell. "Marko... what are they talking about?"

Rebecca stepped forward, fists raised. "Mr. Springwell has participated in the theft of an item belonging to Her Majesty's Government. We want that item returned, immediately. And Mr. Springwell is going to help us get it back."

Mr. Springwell turned sadly to Rachel. "I'm sorry, it's true. I've helped steal something. But it's something that never even belonged to this planet in the first place!"

Rebecca, Charley and Jules stepped closer still, and prepared to take Mr.  
Springwell into custody. The bearded man slipped his hand into his black satchel and brought out a small, gun-like object. He pointed it at the three people approaching him. "I must thank you for saving me a trip,  
though. You've brought back my transmat device. Give it to me."

Rebecca reflexively slipped a hand into a surreptitiously placed pocket on the waist of her crimson dress.

"A-ha!" Mr. Springwell criedin triumph. "So that's where it is! I knew you couldn't resist bringing it along!"

Rebecca cursed at herself under her breath.

Jules stepped forward. "Why didn't you leave with your partner back in the vault last night?"

Mr. Springwell's smile faltered slightly. He glanced at Jules, then back at Rebecca, who was clearly the most threatening of the trio. "Because I couldn't leave without Rachel here. Because I fell in love with her."

Charley scoffed. "Oh, please! Do you expect us to believe that?" She noted the looks that Mr. Springwell and Rachel exchanged. "Oh, my Lord.  
it's true..."

"Yes, why is that so hard to believe?" Mr. Springwell said earnestly. "I know I haven't been on Earth very long, but it happened. Love isn't ever planned, it never follows any rules or guidelines. It just *is*."

Rebecca pursed her lips, a haunted look in her eyes. "True enough," she murmured.

"Now, give me that transmat device so Rachel and I can leave," Mr.  
Springwell said.

Jules, who had been quietly creeping along the edge of the room towards Mr.  
Springwell, suddenly leapt at the alien. As the two men fell to the floor,  
Mr. Springwell fired his gun, missing everyone, but drilling a hole neatly into the wall. Charley lunged forward, and kicked at the gun in Mr.  
Springwell's hand, sending it flying. Rebecca jumped into the fray, and threw a quick jab into Mr. Springwell's jaw. His head snapped back and cracked against the hardwood floor of the hotel room.

Rachel, meanwhile, had leapt up on top of the bed in fear. She cowered at the headboard, and watched the action unfold before her.

Mr. Springwell struggled furiously, freeing an arm from the ensuing wrestling match. As his three would-be captors struggled to contain his superior alien strength, Mr. Springwell thrust his hand into Rebecca's pocket, and clutched the device concealed within it. He pulled it out, and,  
with his three antagonists piled on top of him, he pressed a sequence of buttons on the surface of the device.

Rachel watched in horror as a reddish-tinged glow enveloped the struggling figures on the floor. The red glow of energy spun about, twisting the forms within, and with a quick bright snap folded in upon itself. It blinked out of existence.

Rachel shut her eyes tightly. She hugged herself as she leaned back against the headboard of the bed, then opened her eyes again. There was no doubt.  
Her Marko was gone, along with all traces of the two women and the other man.

"Marko..." she whispered, as she reached out and touched the small black satchel in front of her on the bed...

*****

The Doctor, Phileas Fogg, and Passepartout stepped from the confines of the TARDIS into a decently-lit chamber. It looked like some sort of cargo hold,  
which made sense, since that is exactly what it was. At the moment, there wasn't very much cargo stored in the chamber, so there was quite a bit of open space. A small number of metallic-looking crates were stacked in one corner, near what appeared to be a doorway. The doors were closed.

"You see?" the Doctor said as they looked around. "A spaceship."

Phileas gazed around. "How can you be sure? It seems like just another room to me. Admittedly a rather strange room, but I find it difficult to tell that we are in any sort of vessel."

Passepartout cocked his head to one side. "We are on a moving ship of some kind, Master. I am feeling the movingment."

"Well put as always, Passepartout," Phileas said with a frown. He sighed.  
"Very well, we're on a starship. Now what?"

"Now," announced the Doctor, "we find that second control sphere before Lord Aranax finds it."

A bullet whizzed past the Doctor's head and lodged itself in the wall behind him.

"I think he may already be here," the Doctor said as he pulled Phileas and Passepartout behind the cover of the TARDIS. "He's behind the crates in that corner over there." The Doctor nodded in the direction of the crates by the doorway, which was now on the other side of the Doctor's ship from them.

"You are too late, Doctor!" a voice, obviously that of Lord Aranax, cried out.

Suddenly a dog bark cut through the cargo bay. The Doctor looked in the direction of the bark. He squinted, and saw a small dog in the corner opposite from the stack of crates. "It's a beagle!" the Doctor said,  
puzzled. "That's rather odd, on a starship." He looked closer. The dog sniffed around in its corner, darted behind what appeared to be a small control console, and emerged a few seconds later clutching a metal sphere in its mouth.

"The control sphere!" Phileas hissed. "The dog's found it!"

The Doctor smiled excitedly. "We must get it before Aranax." He whisteled to the dog. "Here boy, come here!" The Doctor patted his legs, enticing the little beagle to bring the sphere over to him.

"Damn it!" they heard Lord Aranax cry out angrily. Then they heard more gunfire as Aranax began shooting in front of the dog to prevent it from reaching the Doctor and his friends hiding behind the TARDIS. The impact of the bullets crept closer and closer to the dog.

"Stop it!" Passepartout suddenly cried out as he saw the shots approaching the little dog. He leapt out from behind the cover of the tall blue box,  
and threw himself in front of the beagle. A bullet thudded into his shoulder as he landed roughly on the ground in front of the dog. Were it not for Passepartout, that bullet would have slammed into the little dog.

The dog yelped in fear, the sphere dropping out of its mouth. The sphere began to roll away from the dog and Passepartout. Passepartout, wounded,  
attempted to grab the rolling sphere, but it eluded his grasping fingers.  
Instead, the dog jumped into Passepartout's outstretched hands.

The Doctor and Phileas jumped forward, each grabbed a leg, and dragged Passepartout and the little dog back behind the cover of the TARDIS.

"Now what?" Phileas said breathlessly as he inspected the wound to Passepartout's shoulder.

The Doctor looked around frantically, searching for anything that might help. Unfortunately, there was nothing. He turned to Phileas. "I'm going to open the TARDIS doors. Get back inside with Passepartout and get him comfortable. I'll figure something out. Get ready." The Doctor reached around the corner to open the TARDIS doors. Phileas dragged Passepartout quickly but carefully inside. The dog, meanwhile, had jumped out of Passepartout's hands, and now looked up expectantly at the Doctor.

The Doctor looked down at the little dog. "I'm not sure. Any ideas?" The dog wagged its tail.

The Doctor shrugged and peeked around the corner of the TARDIS. He saw the control sphere, and saw that it had stopped rolling about halfway between the TARDIS and the crates behind which Lord Aranax was hiding. The Doctor ducked back as another bullet shot past his head. "Thank goodness his aim's terrible," the Doctor muttered to himself. He threw himself down to the ground on all fours, and peeked again. Aranax seemed not to notice him now that he was pressing himself to the floor.

The Doctor tensed himself to scramble from his cover and lunge for the sphere. Just as he threw himself around the corner and out into the open space of the cargo hold, a small reddish-hued glow began to form in the center of the room. The Doctor pulled up short, and crouched closer to the ground, staring at the building red glow.

The swirling red solidified into four wrestling figures on the ground. Mr.  
Springwell, Rebecca Fogg, Charley Pollard, and Jules Verne had arrived. The Doctor grinned hugely.

"Mr. Springwell!" Lord Aranax yelled out. "The control sphere! You're almost on top of it! Get it, quickly!"

Mr. Springwell summoned his superior alien strength, and pushed all three of his foes back with all of his might. The three bodies fell back, and Mr.  
Springwell jumped up, dashed over to the control sphere, and scooped it up.

By this time, the Doctor had recovered, and had scurried over to Mr.  
Springwell, tackling the short man around the legs. The two men fell to the floor. The control sphere thudded to the ground, and rolled away from Mr.  
Springwell...

...and right into the waiting palm of Lord Aranax. The tall bearded gentleman swept up the small metallic sphere, thrust it into a pocket, and smiled at the Doctor. Mr. Springwell kicked back at the Doctor, who fell back from the sudden strong blow. Free again, Mr. Springwell hurried to his feet and scampered to stand next to Lord Aranax.

The Doctor scrambled up once more, and, along with a recovered Rebecca,  
Charley and Jules, rushed at the two bearded alien men. Just as the four of them reached their prey, Lord Aranax and Mr. Springwell disappeared once more in a swirling haze of crimson red. Rebecca, Charley, Jules, and the Doctor crashed into each other and tumbled to the ground.

The Doctor and Rebecca rolled together in one direction, while Charley and Jules tumbled in the other. Charley extricated herself from Jules, and looked over at the Doctor and Rebecca. Charley cleared her throat as she noticed Rebecca clearly not attempting to stand up just yet.

"Are you OK?" the Doctor asked Rebecca.

Rebecca smiled and sat up. "I'm fine, Doctor," she said, winking over at Charley.

Charley fumed as she helped Jules stand up.

The Doctor got to his feet, and extended a hand to assist Rebecca. "Why,  
thank you, Doctor," Rebecca said, a twinkle in her eye.

The Doctor bowed gracefully. "Not at all, Reb--"

"I hate to interrupt," Jules interjected, "but I think I hear someone coming." Jules nodded in the direction of the closed door.

The Doctor grabbed Rebecca and Charley by their arms, and hurried them over to the TARDIS. "Aranax and Springwell have both control spheres. I think it best if we head for their planet as soon as possible. Come on! Inside!"  
He ushered the two ladies and Jules into the TARDIS.

The little dog scampered over to the door, and looked back as it heard a strange grinding, groaning noise. It barked once as the tall blue box dematerialized and disappeared completely.

The door behind the dog swished open, and a tall, strongly-built man in a blue uniform jumpsuit stepped inside. He looked down at the beagle.

"There you are, Porthos!" Captain Jonathan Archer said with relief. "Where have you been, you little rascal? I've been looking all over for you." He crouched down, and began to pet the little dog. Porthos wagged his tail in joyful response.

Archer paused, and sniffed the air. He frowned. "Gunpowder? What's been going on here?" Archer stood up and stepped over to a communication panel.  
He thumbed a button. "Archer to Reed."

A voice replied from the panel. "Reed here, what is it, Captain?"

Archer narrowed his eyes. "I'm in Cargo Bay Two. I'd like Security to run a sensor sweep in here."

"What's up?" Reed asked.

"I'm not sure... but I think someone's been firing ancient pistols in here."

"We'll be right there, sir," Reed replied. "Reed out."

Archer cut the communication circuit and crouched down to pet his dog Porthos once more, as the Enterprise cruised along on its course through the stars...

*****


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor stood back from the central console of his TARDIS, satisfied that they were on their way, and on the trail of the elusive Lord Aranax and Mr.  
Springwell. He glanced over at his travelling companions and hurried over to stand with them.

Passepartout was lying unconscious on his back on a wooden table, his jacket and vest discarded, and his shirt opened to expose the bullet wound in his shoulder. Phileas was holding a cloth against the wound to staunch the bleeding.

Phileas looked up as the Doctor approached. "Doctor, we need something to help him. Is there anything in here that might..." He trailed off, his eyes pleading with the Doctor.

The Doctor spun around, and dashed to another section of the console room.  
He disappeared behind a pile of books and boxes. He emerged a few seconds later holding an old-fashioned doctor's bag. Opening the bag as he rushed back to the crowd around Passepartout, he withdrew a metallic-looking piece of cloth. He moved Phileas aside, and applied the metallic gauze to the surface of the bullet wound. After a moment of pause, a small "clink" sound was heard, and the Doctor lifted the metal cloth from the wound. The bullet was attached to the odd cloth. The Doctor tossed the bullet and cloth aside, and grabbed another piece of cloth from his black bag. The ordinary-looking white cloth was pressed to the bloodied section of Passepartout's shoulder. The Doctor held it in place for a moment, then lifted his hand. The white cloth remained in place. The Doctor looked up at his companions.

"There," he announced gently. "That should do the trick. As you can see the bullet has been extracted. Now the medical enzymes and chemicals embedded in the cloth will start to work on healing and repairing the wound.  
It's imperative that Passepartout get some rest, and not exert himself for the next day or so."

Phileas looked at the Doctor. "Thank you," he said gratefully.

A few seconds later, the console chimed. The TARDIS had arrived. The Doctor hurried back to the console, and operated the scanner screen,  
checking the view outside. The display showed a pleasant tree-lined courtyard. It appeared to be night-time, as stars shone above the tops of the trees. The Doctor checked some readings. "Near-Earth atmospheric conditions. Bit more nitrogen in the atmosphere, but not so you'd notice.  
Shouldn't affect any of use." He twisted a dial. "Hmm... we haven't arrived *exactly* where I wanted us to, but it appears that Aranax and the control spheres are in fact nearby. Time to head out and stop all this."  
He operated the door controls, and headed towards the exit. He stopped and spun about. "I think it best if someone were to stay with Passepartout,  
just to be on the safe side."

"I'll stay with him," Jules said.

Rebecca turned to him. "Jules, we're on another world, don't you want to get out there and see... well, everything?"

Jules smiled at Rebecca. "I've alread been to a few other worlds, thanks to our last visit from the Doctor, remember? I think it's your turn, Rebecca."

"If you're sure..." Rebecca said. Jules nodded, and Rebecca smiled her thanks.

The Doctor, Charley, Phileas and Rebecca headed for the TARDIS doors, and stepped outside onto the surface of the planet Riviss.

The four travellers were treated to a wondrous vision. The courtyard was spacious, and decorated with beautiful tree-like plants along several avenues that crossed the courtyard. A wide, two-story building sat nearby.  
Above it all, the starry night sky glittered with the pin-pricks of faraway suns. A nearby blue-green, ringed moon dominated the sky, its rings tilting dramatically towards the planet.

Rebecca twirled about, drinking in the glorious view. "It's so beautiful!"  
she breathed, awe-struck.

Phileas also gazed up at the sky. "Most impressive," he agreed.

Charley nudged Phileas. "Philes, we've got a job to do, remember?" she said quietly.

"What? Oh, yes. Yes, thank you Miss Pollard."

Charley smiled as she linked her arm with Phileas and led him towards the nearby building. "Please, Phileas, for the last time... call me Charley!"  
she giggled.

Rebecca pulled her gaze from the night sky, and found the Doctor standing next to her. She linked her arm with his, and yanked him along, following Charley and Phileas. The Doctor, caught unawares by the arm-linking,  
stumbled to keep up with the determined Rebecca Fogg.

The four travellers hurried up the stairs leading to the entrance of the nearby building, and dashed inside.

*****

Lord Aranax and Mr. Springwell yanked open the double doors and hurried inside the room, leaving the bodies of several guards behind them in the corridor. They had made it. The Control Room of the Rivissian Powersource.  
Along the wall opposite from the doorway stood a tall, grand machine. It looked not unlike a huge cathedral organ. Instead of pips, long, smooth crystal tubes climbed the wall. Where a keyboard would have been situated,  
there was a complex computer panel. A display, a keyboard, and many various buttons and switches faced the two men as they approached the console. On the extreme sides of the machine were two circular recesses. These were clearly designed to house the control spheres.

Aranax looked at Mr. Springwell. "At last, all our dreams will come true!"  
the taller man breathed.

Mr. Springwell frowned. "All of *your* dreams, you mean," he groused.

"Why, Springwell, are you having second thoughts?"

"No, Lord Aranax, it's just that..." Springwell trailed off, uncertain how to continue.

"Go on," Aranax said, a hint of intimidation creeping into his voice.

Springwell looked up at Aranax. "You've still not told me what is to be my role in the new government."

Aranax laughed. "Whoever said you would have *any* sort of role?"

Springwell frowned again. "But I thought... after all my help..."

"Well, you thought wrong. You were simply the closest person I could find when I decided to embark upon my quest to find the two control spheres. Did you think I actually *chose* you because of any sort of 'qualifications'?"  
Aranax chuckled. "You must be more foolish than I had hoped."

Springwell's anger simmered. But before he could speak further, the doors behind them burst open, as the Doctor, Charley, Rebecca and Phileas rushed inside. Aranax spun around, holding his pistol out in front of him.

"You see?" Aranax growled at Springwell. "You can't even lock the doors,  
for crying out loud!" He reached into a pocket and pulled out one of the control spheres. He tossed it at Springwell. The shorter man looked at the small metallic globe as Aranax continued. "Get over there and get ready to place this in its recess. The two spheres must be inserted at the exact same moment."

Springwell looked over at Aranax.

"Aranax, stop this at once," the Doctor demanded. "You cannot continue this madness."

Aranax laughed harshly. "And why not, Mr. Curly-Hair? This planet is my birthright. It is mine to control, and control it I shall!"

Phileas spoke up. "As I understand it, the people have spoken. They no longer wish to be led by your kind, no longer wish to be ruled by a monarchy."

"They've chosen their leaders," Rebecca added, continuing the thread. "Your day is done, I'm afraid."

"You see, Aranax?" the Doctor continued. "Even people alien to your planet know that you're finished. You don't have the right to rule the people."

"The people?" Aranax scoffed. "The people are fools, they don't know what's best for them. That *I* am best for them. I mean, just look at Springwell here. He fell in love with an alien *whore* for goodness' sake!"

Springwell narrowed his eyes, and frowned at Aranax. "Don't you *dare* call Rachel that!" he hissed.

"I shall call whomever I want whatever I want whenever I want, once I have complete and utter control of this world," Aranax said, smiling. "And why stop at this world? I'll figure out a way to increase the mind-control power of this machine, and become master of even more planets. It's only a matter of time."

"But that's no way to rule, Aranax," the Doctor said. "To completely blank people's minds into blindly doing your bidding..." The Doctor shook his head sadly.

Aranax waved at Springwell with his gun. "For some people I don't need the machine. Springwell, prepare to insert the control sphere."

The Doctor turned his attention to Springwell. "Mr. Springwell, you cannot possibly want to allow this to happen."

Charley stepped carefully forward, pleading with Springwell. "What about Rachel, Mr. Springwell? What would she think about all of this? If you do this, you'll never see her again, do you realize that?"

Aranax fired a shot over Charley's head. "Shut up, little girl!" he snarled.

"I say!" Phileas snarled angrily. "Show her some manners!"

Aranax ignored Phileas, and pulled out the second control sphere, and side-stepped over to the recess opposite from Springwell's, keeping his gun trained on the intruders. "Ready, Springwell?"

Springwell looked at the control sphere, then at Aranax and his gun.  
Looking over at the Doctor and his friends, his gaze settled on Charley. "I have to do this," Springwell said quietly.

Aranax laughed. "On the count of three. One...two...three!" Aranax pressed his control sphere into its recess, while Springwell did the same at the other end of the machine. Lights began to twinkle on the front of the machine as it powered up after centuries of silence. The crystal tubes leading up the wall began to glow, pulsing with light. A powerful thrumming noise filled the air, as Aranax laughed again. He held one hand on the control sphere as it rested in its recess, and cackled as he felt the power thrum from the sphere into his palm. "At last! In a few moments, this world will be mine!"

The power built, and the Doctor looked sadly at his friends. "I'm sorry,"  
he said simply.

"Don't be," Springwell said. He looked at Aranax and frowned angrily at his fellow Rivissian. "Aranax, you bastard! You've had this coming for a long time!" With that, Springwell yanked his control sphere out of its recess,  
and hurled it away.

The power building with the Powersource machine became unbalanced, now that there was only one control sphere. The glowing tubes flickered, the lights on the control panel blinked in rapid succession, and a tremendous surge of energy channelled straight into the remaining control sphere, which Aranax still held his palm against. The energy charged through the sphere, and crashed into Aranax's body. The power from the machine ripped through the Rivissian's skeletal structure, blazed through his internal organs, and sparked its way to Aranax's skin. His flesh charred quickly, and his body fried and melted into a thick, ugly pool of blood, flesh, and tissue.

The power died away as Aranax died, and quickly fizzled to nothing. The machine hummed down to silence.

"Good grief," Phileas said as he frowned at Aranax's remains.

There was a moment of silence. Then the Doctor turned to Springwell. The short Rivissian pulled his gaze away from Aranax's mess and met the Doctor's eyes.

"Well done, Mr. Springwell," the Doctor said.

Springwell smiled weakly, then slid to the floor, shaking. A tear fell from his eye. He curled up and hugged his knees to his chest and began rocking quietly back and forth. "Do you think Rachel will be proud of me?" he whispered.

Charley approached Springwell and crouched down next to him. "I'm sure she will be," she said gently as she hugged him.

Springwell smiled slightly. "I wish I could tell her."

Charley looked back at the Doctor. "We can take you back, can't we,  
Doctor?"

"Of course," the Doctor answered, smiling.

Rebecca looked at Phileas. "Well, Phileas, our first visit to an alien planet."

"Indeed," Phileas said.

"What do you think?" Rebecca asked.

Phileas thought for a moment. "I liked it much better outside than in here,  
of that I am quite certain."

The Doctor stepped over Aranax's remains, and plucked the control sphere from its socket. He walked across the room, and picked up Springwell's discarded sphere. Looking at the two control spheres, the Doctor quietly sighed. He slipped them into his pockets. "Time to take care of these for good, this time," he said softly.

Charley helped Springwell to his feet. "I think we should be going," she said, "don't you, Doctor?"

The Doctor nodded, and helped her guide Springwell out the door. Rebecca and Phileas followed, slowing their pace to hang back a short distance from the others.

Phileas held out his arm, and Rebecca quietly took it.

"Phileas," Rebecca said.

"Yes, Rebecca?"

"What exactly is going on between you and Charley?"

Phileas stopped. "I have no idea what you mean."

Rebecca smiled up at him sweetly. "Of course not, Phileas. Just checking."

They resumed their walk.

Up ahead, the Doctor and Charley continued to assist Springwell as they emerged from the building and headed towards the TARDIS.

"Charley..." the Doctor began.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"What exactly is going on between myself and Rebecca?"

Charley laughed. "I have no idea what you mean."

The Doctor frowned slightly as they reached the TARDIS doors. "Neither do I, I'm afraid."

*****

Passepartout sat up as the Doctor, Charley and Springwell entered the TARDIS.

"How did it go?" Jules asked.

"We won, Aranax has been defeated," Charley reported. "All in a day's work."

"And it looks like Passepartout is doing better!" the Doctor said with a huge grin.

Passepartout smiled back, a smile that grew a hundredfold as Rebecca and Phileas, still arm in arm, entered the TARDIS. "Master! Miss Rebecca! You are being well!"

Phileas and Rebecca rushed over to Passepartout.

"As are you, Passepartout," Phileas said, smiling. "Well done!"

Rebecca hugged Passepartout gently. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you looking so well," she said.

Jules cleared his throat. "Welcome back, everyone," he said.

Rebecca looked over at Jules. "Oh, Jules, I'm so sorry... you missed everything once again."

"That's becoming the story of my life," Jules said.

"Oh, don't worry, Jules," the Doctor called over as he helped Springwell into a nearby plush chair. "The story of your life holds many more surprises for you and your friends." Having gotten Springwell comfortable,  
the Doctor strolled over to the control console. "Now, I think it's time we got you all back to where you belong." He threw some controls, twisted some dials, and the TARDIS dematerialized.

*****

A short time later, the TARDIS reached its destination. The Doctor opened the doors, and he and Charley led the way outside.

The Doctor and Charley emerged into a large, wide room, filled with hundreds of people. Far on the other side of the room, past the crowd of people in front of the Doctor, a stage was set up, and a man stood at a podium. The Doctor could barely make out what was happening on stage. He stood up on his tiptoes. Phileas, Rebecca, Jules, and Passepartout bumped into the Doctor as he squinted to make out what was happening on the other side of the hall.

The man at the podim tapped his microphone, the sound echoing through the hall. He cleared his throat. "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for," the man said. "Please join me in welcoming to the second annual AuroraCon... ladies and gentlemen, our friends Michael, Francesca, Michel,  
and Chris!" Thunderous applause boomed throughout the hall as the crowd jumped to its feet.

The Doctor's eyes widened. He spun about, and began shoving his companions back into the TARDIS. "Back, inside, quickly! We must leave, now!"

"What is it, Doctor?" Charley asked. "Why the sudden rush? Daleks?  
Cybermen? What??"

Rebecca and Phileas tumbled back inside the TARDIS, as the Doctor pushed Jules and Passepartout none-too-gently inside the time machine. The Doctor dragged Charley inside with him, muttering, "We've got to leave, now... dire consequences... terrible disruption of the space-time continuum... No time to argue! Hurry!"

He slammed the door shut behind him.

The man at the podium paused, as a strange grinding, wheezing sound echoed from the rear of the convention hall. Peering into the dim back corners of the hall, he saw nothing. He shrugged, and continued with the introductions...

...THE END 


End file.
